Critical
by HotChilliGriffin
Summary: Ever wondered what would have happened if Kate had led the extraction party in Rules of Engagement? AU fic, with a touch of MK and JK.


"_This is Petty Officer Coxswain, Chris Blake, on HMAS Hammersley – over."_

"_Swain, this is doctor Hennessy. What is the status of your patient?"_

"_Sir, I... I have two patients, one with a shrapnel wound to the left leg... she's lost a lot of blood... the other with a wound to the head and loss of consciousness."_

"_Swain, do you consider the lieutenant's blood loss to be critical?"_

"_Uh, yes, sir, there's a lot of blood, she's lost a lot of blood..."_

**Critical**

"This is way outside of the Navy's comfort zone. I can't ask anyone to lead this one, so I'm doing it myself," Mike said stiffly, already knowing what his XO's reaction would be. Sure enough, she scowled. Before she could start arguing, he continued. "X, I need you to stay here and take control of the ship."

Instead of pacifying her, the comment increased her anger.

"You're planning on taking a team out of the Navy's comfort zone, _and_ depriving _your_ ship of her captain?"

"I'm sure you can handle her, X..."

"Don't," Kate snapped.

Mike paused; that line usually worked. But he had a fairly good idea why it wasn't doing so today. His only regret was that they had to carry out this argument in the middle of the bridge. He looked around; RO was involved in an email, and Buffer was peering intently out at the shoreline of Samaru. The moment she saw his head move, Nav hurriedly turned away to check her radar screen.

"Alright, X. You want the real reason? One of the men we're looking for is your boyfriend, and I don't want you –"

"You think I can't be professional? Have I not proved how professional I can be?"

Mike paused, shocked that she would reference _that_. He'd had enough trouble coping with the actual concept of _Kate's boyfriend_... And he didn't doubt that this scene would get a lot stickier if he didn't immediately cave to her wishes. She was too stubborn to take no for an answer.

Of course, she had a point. She could be professional, very much so. She did more work on boardings and on shore, meaning she was probably fitter. She had had more experience leading the other crew members, and he knew they all respected her authority.

He gritted his teeth, and waved one hand slightly, basically saying, 'Do what you will'. Smirking with satisfaction, Kate left the bridge to prepare her shore party.

***

Her eyes roved carefully over the terrain, evaluating every misplaced log or rock. Behind her, ET was struggling to communicate with the Hammersley.

"Any luck?" she called back, keeping her voice quiet.

"Nada," ET replied. Kate's eyes focused on an overhanging branch.

"Watch out for that," she said, one hand patting the branch.

They each carefully ducked beneath it, Spider bringing up the rear. He looked back at the branch, his eyes leaving the path in front of him.

"Watch your footing here, the path looks eroded," she muttered to Buffer, then glanced backwards. "Spider, look where you're going!"

He quickly corrected, refocusing. They continued along the path without incident.

In front of them, a twig snapped. The group instantly lifted their rifles, peering ahead of them. Kate sidestepped, so that she could rotate, checking the jungle around them. It was quite possible for an enemy to create a distraction and come in from behind.

But a second later, Jim's team came into view. Kate bit down on her tongue, and thought to herself, _Professional. Must prove Mike wrong – be professional. _The Navy group lowered their weapons.

Sergeant Thorne didn't look particularly happy to see her, but nodded stiffly. Kate gritted her teeth, seeing Jim leaning heavily on one of his comrade's shoulders.

"Injured?" she asked.

"Captain has a head injury. He's got a gunshot wound." Kate's eyes checked out the wounded soldier; blood was streaming from his stomach. "Lost two others, had to leave them."

"Alright. We've got a pickup waiting, we get there now, and they'll be fine." She hoped her own worry didn't pass through to her voice, and specifically tried to sound as positive as possible. They _would_ be okay. They had to be.

Their progress back to the ute was slow, as they had to assist the injured soldiers along the narrow path.

"Any contact with the Hammersley?" Kate called to ET, just as they rounded the corner and saw the white Holden waiting where they'd left it. They cautiously lifted the injured soldier into the back, then Sergeant Thorne hauled Jim up, followed by the other SAS men, Spider and Kate. Buffer climbed into the passenger seat.

ET tried the radio once more, but the only reply was white static. Shaking his head, he jumped into the front of the ute, and started the engine.

***

Mike stood on the bridge, one hand nervously fingering a radio. The extraction team had been out of contact for over half an hour. That was a long time. Too long.

Something white moved behind the tree line on the island, and he grabbed the binoculars. The ute.

"They're back," he called over his shoulder. "Get the RHIBs in the water."

As the ute burst into full daylight, Mike's gut clenched, an inexplicable feeling of worry gnawing at him. He wanted his crew back on board, now. Before something went wrong.

***

Considering the rattling of the ute, Kate was surprised she heard him speak at all.

"Don't know... any other girl... who would brave foreign insurgents... to find me."

She glanced down, met Jim's pain-filled eyes, and felt a slight dizziness she attributed to relief. "He's awake," she called, then tenderly touched his cheek. "You're going to be okay. We're nearly there." She glanced at the other injured man. "How's he doing?"

Sergeant Thorne's expression tightened. "He's gone."

Swallowing, Kate turned back to Jim. Nearly there, they were nearly there... he'd be fine... just fi–

Her gaze locked onto the ship; the ute spun to a halt; and something less than five metres away exploded.

There was a few seconds of confusion, then they were all out of the ute. The uninjured SAS men had grabbed their dead colleague, while Kate and Buffer took hold of Jim. ET and Spider had their guns aimed at the trees, and were returning fire.

"Get to the RHIBs!" Kate ordered, and the chaos ceased for just a moment. As the RHIBs pulled up to the shale beach, soldiers and sailors alike poured in, ducking their heads to avoid the fire still directed towards them.

"Where's that mortar?" Buffer yelled, trying to be heard over the sound of yet another explosion. He and Kate were pushing Jim's semi-conscious form into the closest RHIB.

Before Kate could tersely point out that she didn't have any more idea than he did, the ground beside them burst upwards, and they both threw up their arms to protect their heads as assorted debris rained down.

They couldn't waste any more time. Buffer was already half into the RHIB and, grabbing Kate's hand, he pulled her in after him.

"Move!" he shouted at the driver, and they sped away from the beach.

Kate dropped to the bottom of the RHIB, struggling to regain her breath. Maybe it was because so many things in the vicinity were on fire, maybe it was the tropical weather or the thickness of the Kevlar, but she felt chokingly hot. Her skin was prickling, and her head ached suddenly.

"X?"

Blinking, she saw blood.

"X!"

So much blood.

"Swain, the X has been hit!"

Her last thought was, _really?_ and then she was falling, deeper and deeper into liquid darkness.

***

"What happened?"

The words were out of his mouth before they had even lifted her unconscious form out of the RHIB. Seeing the blood, Mike felt his heart stop. Blood on her overalls, her hands and legs, on Buffer and Swain, dotting the sides of the RHIB...

"I don't... need to get her to the ward room, now. Sh... she's losing blood. Is that a bullet wound?"

Swain's agitation was all Mike needed to know it was serious.

"Not a bullet," Buffer grunted, trying to hold her steady while climbing out of the RHIB. "The last mortar... it must be shrapnel. It's her leg."

The final statement was unnecessary – one good look and it was obvious where the injury was.

"She needs a medivac, now," Swain instructed, pulling open the stretcher.

For a moment, Mike remained frozen, as they took her inside. Bomber helped cart Jim downstairs after Kate, and he felt a flash of anger. _Damn Jim! Should never have given him the RHIB... should never have let Kate onto that island..._

Then he slapped away the distracting emotions, and moved to the bridge. He needed to call Navcom and arrange a medivac.

***

"_Swain, do you consider the lieutenant's blood loss to be critical?"_ Dr Hennessy's voice came through the earpiece.

"Uh, yes, sir, there's a lot of blood, she's lost a lot of blood..."

"Swain?" The medic looked up at the captain's voice. "Swain... there's no chopper."

Swain trembled slightly. "She needs –"

"I know that, Swain. There's nothing I can do. We're making full speed towards the Melbourne. Do what you can."

He nodded. What he could? Could he do anything?

A moment later, he realised Mike was still standing there, staring at the unconscious blonde figure, expression unreadable.

Then the voice was in his ear again, and he forced himself to try.

***

"Please... please be okay... Kate, I'm sorry..."

Mike hesitated in the doorway. At least Jim had worked out it was his own fault. Stepping into the room, he pointedly ignored the pale glint of tears on Jim's cheeks.

"Captain."

"Sir."

"How is she?"

"The same. They left the shrapnel in, though. I... We're swapping ships."

Mike nodded tersely. "Good."

He felt like such an outsider, standing there. Kate had moved on from him, and the evidence of that fact was right in front of him. Her boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. Mike tensed, seeing Jim gently caressing her cheek, and had to force himself out of the room before he fell to the temptation of punching him.

They wouldn't see each other again until the funeral.

***

The world stopped. There was no explosion, no explanation; just a phone call and the sound of Marshall voice... and everything stopped.

The crew didn't dare ask; his face said it all. But _knowing_ wasn't enough. He needed to tell them and, more importantly, he needed to say it if he was to have any chance of believing it.

"She died twenty minutes ago."

There was silence in the bridge. Cold, shocked silence. The people had stopped, the waves had stopped, his heart had stopped...

Her light frame hadn't been able to deal with such heavy blood loss.

Then his stomach restarted, and he knew it was his stomach because he felt like throwing up. He had to get out, because he was going to cry (and possibly throw up at the same time), and he didn't care, but he wouldn't let the crew see. They couldn't see, because at times like this they needed the chain of command, and seeing the CO lose it wouldn't help...

Without another word, he turned and left the bridge, dropping down the stairs and turning into his cabin.

Behind him, Nav murmured that she had the ship, her voice hollow from shock.

Mind reeling, Mike pushed the door shut and dropped to the floor in front of it. He couldn't _breathe_. It was like someone had shoved a tube down his throat.

The trembling started in his shoulders, and within seconds his entire upper body was shaking with quiet sobs. This wasn't right. He shouldn't have to live without her. He couldn't... not again.

"_Mike,"_ he heard her voice whisper, and the first tear fell. She hadn't called him Mike even once since she'd been posted to his ship. _"Please, Mike."_

Some of the trembling had stopped, and his chest was now heaving wildly as he searched for air. His heart rate increased.

"_Mike, please."_

And for the shortest moment, he could feel her hand on his head, just below the hairline. Not just touching, stroking. Those wonderful soft fingers. So this was what going crazy was like. Rather nice.

"Dammit, Mike."

He blinked. He'd slipped from a sitting position in front of his cabin door to a lying one in... a bed?

"Wake _up_, damn you, because they won't let me stay much longer and I need to tell you how damn lucky you are to be alive."

He inhaled, caught a whiff of plastic. His eyelids flickered as he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to open his eyes.

"Sir?"

Realisation hit him like a speeding train. Memories flooded his consciousness – pulling rank, telling her he would be leading the extraction party; Spider and the grenades; Jim's injury; the ride in the ute; then a flash of light and a blast of heat and – nothing.

And all the while, Kate was on the ship. Safe.

"Gbckmnm," he groaned, and the hand left his face and touched his arm instead. Swallowing thickly, he tried to make his voice work. "On shore. My. Name."

There was a slightly bemused laugh, and he was finally able to crack his eyes open. She stood by his side, dressed in white and gold, a single tear caught in her eyelashes.

"Mike," she whispered, and he sighed. Her hand returned to his cheek. "Bet you wish you'd let me lead that extraction party, now."

With painful intensity, his eyes snapped fully open. "No." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "No-no-no-no-no-no."

"Alright then..." she agreed, puzzled.

Trying to embrace her with his eyes, he added, "I wouldn't change a thing."


End file.
